everybreath-482x298

Yes it’s unusual. Unusual for me to take so long to write a response to a new work. But I felt I needed to take my time on this one. Mainly because I think this is yet another highly controversial production from team Belvoir.

And it is controversial not for the obvious reason – Benedict Andrews at the helm usually triggers a hot-collared response from the conservative punters – (I was told recently his Marriage of Figaro stirred some outrage from those who saw the jovial humping of a dead elk/deer pre-interval to be too much.) Again, the mainstage has attracted attention in its staging of yet another “new Australian play” which is seen as under developed.

This show was always going to attract attention. Benedict Andrews directing, but more than that Benedict Andrews directing his own piece of writing. A piece of writing which was shortlisted by the Sydney Theatre Company for the Patrick White Award. There’s a huge mass of top, professional support and auctoritas behind this show.

I’ve been thinking a lot about the role and rise of the auteur director in theatre. I think it’s worth reading Michael Billington’s thoughts in the UK Guardian: http://www.guardian.co.uk/stage/theatreblog/2009/apr/14/auteur-theatre and the inherent dangers about it’s promience in theatre. “The danger of the auteur theory is twofold. It creates idols who, to their acolytes, can do no wrong… The other danger is that the interpreter becomes bigger than the thing interpreted.”

On the otherside of the northern hemisphere – and some years earlier (1985)- Frank Rich writes about the “rise” of the auteur director – sighting Kantor, Grotwoski, Peter Brook and the teachings of Meyerhold and their effect on the new wave of directors… http://www.nytimes.com/1985/11/24/theater/auteur-directors-bring-new-life-to-theater.html?pagewanted=all “Like some of their prototypes, some of our current auteur-directors form cults and practice unchecked self-indulgence.”

And so this current interest in the “bright young things” making “shocking” art is nothing new. Kosky, Andrews, Stone… yeah yeah yeah. We know what you’re doing… you are staging radical interpretations of classic texts/classic stories. So we sit back and fold our arms and anticipate blood/gore, stark sets, blinding lights/strobes, opera smashed together with contemporary music favourites.

But is this really shocking? Well, not really. It’s now fairly expected. We know what to expect from our “auteur directors.

Many of the shows hail from the artists who tumble out of the same schools and institutions. And those designs come from scholarly designers. There is a fine education showing us EXACTLY what was being discussed and developed as a “director’s theatre” thirty to fifty years ago. And, please, don’t get me wrong – I don’t mind this aesthetic – in fact, I find architectural simple design very satisfying. I have nothing against this current flavour being presented on stage.

I do mind, however, when the content does not engage me to the same level as the design (that is light, sound, costume and set). I do mind when the writing not only suffers in content, but in flair, in originality, in personality.

I have recently been informed that the title of auteur has been wrongly attributed to directors such as Andrews and Stone… as they are not authors in their direction of work – but interpreters of classic texts. And when you look at the work of Castelluci for example – Check out this example:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yqUkaGAWkFc&list=FLlkUJ8foqhcXkchN8yRonug&index=90&feature=plpp_video

Or this:

The argument is: What we actually have in Australia is a set of highly aesthetic text interpreters, who adapt work – not devise work – thus making them interpreters not auteurs in the strictest sense.

I’m still thinking about this.

Anyway, on the topic of Benedict Andrews’ offering to assert his true label as an “auteur” he has authored a piece of writing (which is now published by Currency Press via the Belvoir Program), which he has also directed.

Just incase you haven’t already, here are some links to other responses on this work:
Brad http://blogs.crikey.com.au/curtaincall/2012/04/01/review-every-breath-belvoir-st-theatre-sydney/

Mr Blake http://www.smh.com.au/entertainment/theatre/bad-bad-belvoir-20120329-1vzxs.html

Lady Diana: http://www.stagenoise.com/review/1827

Gandalf: http://www.theaustralian.com.au/news/arts/benedict-andrews-gets-cerebral-with-every-breath/story-fn9d344c-1226313282485

What I can add to this discussion is a point which was raised on the facebook group I created about a year ago for playwrights to share perspectives, opportunities, information and advice called TOWARDS A WRITERS THEATRE. The discussion has accumulated a range of voices in response/ in disgust and in defense of Andrews. The most compellign piece of information shared was an observation how close the story itself is to that of “1968 Italian film Teorema in which Terence Stamp plays a mysterious figure who appears in the lives of a typical bourgeois Italian family.”

SYNOPSIS: “Terence Stamp plays a mysterious figure who appears in the lives of a typical bourgeois Italian family. He engages in sexual affairs with all members of the household: the devoutly religious maid, the sensitive son, the sexually repressed mother, the timid daughter and, finally, the tormented father. The stranger gives unstintingly of himself, asking nothing in return. Then one day he leaves, as suddenly and mysteriously as he came. The subsequent void created forces each family member to confront what was previously concealed by the trappings of bourgeois life. ”
Details can be found: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Teorema_%28film%29

Now, I don’t particularly mind if this is an adaptation of Teorema. I don’t care if it is Andrews’ own take on it at all – I just wonder why there is no acknowledgement of this.

Additionally – I am curious to how a work such as this- which is so highly derivative, slipped the attention of those reading for the Patrick White Award?

That issue of originality aside – I just don’t find the actual text – the writing very compelling to listen to. Besides the very casual/rushed way in which the actors rattle through the dialogue, I must say that I found listening to the play, tiresome. And this speaks to my personal prejudice and preference of course. BUT in addition to that – if this is a play which wrestles with the ancient and epic concerns of fulfillment of the characters (both artistic and sexual fulfillment) – AND it speaks of ancient and epic stories such as that of hermaphroditus – why is the language also in this scale and tradition: is this the grand experiment of Andrews? The spoken words seem instead too domestic, too pedestrian, too everyday all grandeur is left to the spectacle of a shifting floor/roof which seems highly contrived by the time we finally reach the last image: a sharp and dark version of Botticelli’s The Birth of Venus.

Reading and re-reading and triple-reading the script. Ruminating repeatedly on the production, I have come to the conclusion that it would have been much better as a series of images accompanied by sound/light/design than with text.

Additionally there seems much talk about the sex and masturbation scenes. To that I say a bit of a “(Yawn) So what? Who cares?” I have read that since the first week of shows, the masturbation and sex scenes have been diminished – it appeared that second night after opening John Howard’s sex and masturbation scenes were cut or cutailed. I don’t know if this is true – but if more of the sex content has been withdrawn, I say again “uh, so what?”

Here’s two phrases:

“Content is king.”

“The play’s the thing.”

Unfortunately I didn’t care for the content of the piece. The content of the play seems to be centred on the struggles that success brings – and how unsatisfying it is. And so it was very hard for me to empathize with the characters – after all, I’m not an uber-successful globe-trotting auteur. Perhaps the programmers and the award shortlisters of this piece did connect with these characters, I wouldn’t be surprised if they did. However, I didn’t. I’m also not from the middle or upper classes – nor am I a hermaphrodite. In short, I felt completely disconnected from the characters, their life concerns, their lifestyle, their philosophy. It all felt completely and deeply irrelevent to me and none of my concern nor interest. The characers weren’t interesting or exotic enough to me, for me to feel like I need to learn from them, their choices, their lifestyle, their successes or their failures, and so, I sat there yawning and distracted. I began listing things I could be doing, not reflecting on things in my life I have done/want/might do.

And so, for me, this was an utterly pointless night at the theatre.

EXCEPT…

I do think that Andrews might be smarter than this – and I thought – what if his plan was to fail MASSIVELY. What if he decided he would show just how dull, selfish and misguided and flawed our play development and award system is. Now THAT would be true provocation. Exposing us to the vision of John Howard masturbating- well – whatever. BUT exposing Belvoir’s lack of dramaturgical/development rigor – uncovering the problems with the label of ‘auteur director’, stripping bare our clumsy obsession with celebrity directors and theatre companies, spreading out before us the awkward fallacy that failure is impossible when a season is curated by committee. AND using Tom Holloway’s conceit of naming the play after a song lyric – genius. This highly mechanized production has come off a conveyerbelt of paint- by numbers, templated theatre-making. And to expose the industry’s failure –

Well, THAT is genius.

Is the text an act of genius? No.
Are the performances an act of genius? No.
Is the design an act of genius? No.
Is the concept an act of genius? No.
Is the plot an act of genius. No.
Are the resulting criticisms/ the can of worms he’s opened by failing so publicly? YES!!!!!

What Andrews has done in this production is not shocking on stage – but what it reveals about the backstage/off stage processes is incredible.

And he has succeeded in failing.

And isn’t that what everyone encourages artists to do? And then when they do, completely – what happens then? A whole bunch of silence, or finger pointing, name calling, speculation, publicity. How do we handle failure as an industry? Is Andrews to be forgiven or outcast?

What is the risk in supporting failure? When the play itself is about the torture of success (Even Chris’ life is more interesting when s/he fails at his/her job) – wouldn’t it be more powerful if the great successful auteur Andrews failed utterly in this self-referential artistic mess? Infact – I now think that Every Breath was designed to fail – for this VERY reason.

Ha!

And if we for a second took Andrews seriously, when the whole play is about the burden of successful writing, well then, the jokes on us.